Persuasion
by Timothandra
Summary: I'd sit and stare at the back of his head, curiously wondering if there was side to him that no-one had seen. And very rarely, when I would glance over, I'd find his eyes staring back at me.
1. Chapter 1

I, Hermione Granger write the following accounts of my abusive relationship with Draco Malfoy. My days grow darker alongside my companion. I live under his dark and everlasting shadow, having forever lost the friends and family that I used to hold so closely. Life has become very lonesome and dull, I only take solace in the fact that my written accounts may eventually reach my friends, and they may understand the reasons for my many horrible decisions over the years. These days, fearing for my life is a regular occurrence.

To Harry and Ron,

I'm so sorry. I only wish that I could have been the friend that you thought I was.

Chapter One.

I first spoke to Draco Malfoy at a vulnerable moment in my life. Barely 12, my life had been uprooted and I was living, long-term, at a home that wasn't run by my parents. This world; their history and culture, was a completely foreign thing to me. I reached out to my peers but had been shot down.

Completely overwhelmed and alone, I had walked to the West Tower to sit and think and hopefully muster a letter for my parents. The tall building was littered with small windows, tiny eyes watching me. The flutter of wings was a strangely comforting noise to hear. I had been crying for several hours, but was determined to lighten my mood.

I climbed the steps slowly, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention. The inside of the tower was dark and smelled of wet cobblestone. I expected bird mess and feathers, but was surprised by the clean and swept concrete flooring. The tower was built with two sets of stairs, twining up the height to the raking ceiling. Another archway was ahead of me, opening up to the centre of the tower, littered with tables and chairs, loose parchment and quills. Magical oil lanterns adorned the tables, and I noticed a dull light coming from the far corner.

Draco Malfoy was sitting, his chair against the wall and his foot up on the table. He was idly flicking his finger in the air, as if writing with it, and his quill was matching his fingers movement. I stood at the entrance, my head peeping around the side, carefully watching him.

Wandless magic and quill magic were things I had only read about. He seemed to lazily perform the spell that I had practiced for so many hours and not achieved. His movements were almost graceful.

Deciding to head back to the castle rather than face him, I moved my foot back to turn around. An owl had nestled next to my leg, and I had unknowingly kicked him aside. He swarked and shuffled along, I ripped my hair away from the entrance, eyes wide and terrified.

"Who's there?" Draco asked firmly.

I calmed my breathing, and quickly entered, glancing at him quickly but keeping my head down.

"Oh, it's you," he said, sneering slightly.

"Malfoy," I addressed him curtly.

He remained silent, and turned to his table, picking up the pen and scratrching ink onto the paper. I sat down at a table on the other side of the room, and picked up the quill to write a letter to my parents.

I stared at the parchment, unable to form the words to express to my parents the level of misery I was feeling. Knowing it would only hurt them and make them unhappy. Feeling trapped and alone, I fought tirelessly to maintain my composure. I looked up at Malfoy, and met his curious eyes. He quickly looked down and continued writing.

The misery welled up in the pit of my stomach, I tightened my shoulders and tried to breathe deeply. A single tear slipped out of my eye, and my head dipped to hide it.

I heard a shuffle and his footsteps approached. He dragged out the other chair and took a seat.

"Granger," he said quietly.

I breathed in, and looked up at him, my eyes and face probably a mess.

"Why are you crying?"

His voice was so curt and tight, void of emotion.

"None of your business," I said defensively, "why do you care?"

"I don't," he quipped, "I was.."

He paused and looked at me, his eyebrow furrowing, "trying to be nice."

We sat in silence for a moment. He was clearly offended, and a ping of guilt hit my stomach.

"My mistake," he said solemly, standing up to go.

"Wait," I cried softly, "I'm sorry. It's been a bad week."

He froze, and sighed quietly. He took the seat again and met my eyes carefully. Expectantly.

"Nobody likes me. It's a different world, and I don't fit in."

He watched me intently, and the depth of his gaze was almost frightening. I hadn't taken a moment to fully look at him or speak to him until now. I had only known the bad history and brickering between him and my friends. There wasn't any time for him to make his own impression on me. I was suddenly very curious about the boy beneath the gaze.

He kept his bright blonde hair smoothly combed along his head, neat and well kept. His robes were kept immaculately, his shoes shined and clean. There was no doubt that he was from a pretigious family, even on his own.

"I can't say I understand," he replied easily, "because I'm from this world. But I know that you'll settle in alright. Just takes time."

I was surprised that his tone, which was usually hostile and aggrevated, was now even.

"Even if you're a m- halfblood," he finished.

I sighed, having expected something like that from him. I looked down, irritated and offended. His face curled slightly and his normal aggressive expression returned.

"I don't understand why you're so upset by me pointing out a fact," he spat, "even the muggle world is has discriminateion. This is no different."

"Just because discrimination exists in the muggle world doesn't mean it's okay," I replied slowly, "and it certainly isn't a good reason to be mean to me."

I stood quickly, and he remained stoic and silent. Huffing, I stormed out of the tower.

We didn't speak alone again that year. There was no need to; we lead different lives. I took part in the bantering that Harry and Ron seemed to both hate and love. He became the mutual enemy of ours, and I dismissed his almost-nice behaviour as a mistake.

But, occasionally, I would catch myself looking over at him, sitting on the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. I'd sit and stare at the back of his head, curiously wondering if there was side to him that no-one had seen. And very rarely, when I would glance over, I'd find his eyes staring back at me.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2.

During our second year, I had taken doing a lot of studying late at night. I was trying to maintain my grades, but I was struggling as I'd also taken to keeping up with my Muggle learning. My parents insisted that I stay on-track with other children my age so I have the option to live in both the magical and non-magical worlds when I grew up.

I had to creep in the corridors at night. If I made it to the library, it was rare that a prefect or teacher would check the entire room, so I would find a quiet corner to read in, my lantern very dim.

This particular night was very cold, so I had huddled up with a blanket, on the end of a row of shelves.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps approaching. I quickly snuffed my lantern and waited for them to pass. Instead, I heard them enter the room. The person lit the fireplace on the rear wall, illuminating the large open space past the shelves. I heard more footsteps, as they slowly walked along the shelves. They paused at each row, inspecting the library. The figure stopped at the end of my row, and I stopped breathing.

I didn't dare get caught and face consequences. I had no idea if the figure had seen me, but I had seen him.

The firelight shone against the back of the figure, creating a dark silhouette. I recognised him as the light shone off his bright yellow hair, and bounced off of his sheen black shoes.

Malfoy continued on to the next row, until he had searched the entire library. He closed and locked the door from the inside, walking quickly to the fireplace.

I crawled to the edge of the row so I could watch him. He threw something that looked like sand into the fireplace, and began quietly muttering at it, holding his wand firmly.

The flame peaked for a moment, and then simmered down.

"Draco?" Lucius Malfoy's voice spoke out of the flames, "what is it?"

"Father," he uttered, "do you know what is happening here? to people?"

"To mudbloods," Lucius replied, "I am aware, yes."

"Well," Malfoy continued, "I saw a girl. The Weasley girl. Writing the words on the wall."

"No doubt the Dark Lord is forcing her to do his bidding."

"But she's a pureblood," Malfoy interjected, "why would the Dark Lord do this to a pureblood?"

Lucius snorted, "The Weasley girl is the rat level of purebloods, boy. Don't concern yourself with her affairs. Keep to yourself."

"But what's to stop him enslaving others? Other purebloods?"

"What the Dark Lord does is none of your concern unless he makes it your concern. Was there something of importance that you called me for, or are you intent on wasting my time?"

Lucius's words were bitter, and I saw Malfoys face harden in disappointment.

"My apologies, Father," Malfoy said quietly.

The flame returned quickly and the light lit his face up. I was frozen in place, absorbing the words that he had said. Was he talking about Ginny? And the words written in blood that Harry had found?

I stumbled to get up, and stepped into the light.

"Were you talking about Ginny?" I asked, my voice firm.

"What are you doing in here?" he cried, clearly caught red handed.

"I could ask you the same thing," I replied, exasperated, "were you talking about Ginny?"

His face curled in hatred and he stood up, facing me.

"That conversation was private," he hissed, "it's none of your business."

He began storming off. I quickly ran, and stood in front of the door, blocking him. He fumed and breathed deeply.

"Granger," he warned, stepping uncomfortably close, "move aside"

"I won't tell," I mumble quickly and fearfully. Tears began to prick my eyes.

"Your conversation with your father. I won't tell anyone what I heard. You have my word."

He stood silently, brooding.

"But please," I begged, "please tell me what you know about Ginny."

His eyes softened briefly. His shoulders slackened.

"You heard what I know," he replied, calm. "I saw her. Writing the words on the wall in the corridor."

"Do you think she's doing it intentionally?" I ask

"I doubt it. I don't think she'd have the galls to do something like that. She's too.." he trailed off, his nose crinkling, "good."

I sigh, my mind racing. He put a hand on my shoulder and moved me aside. My heart raced as I stepped away, and he left the room without another word.

I rushed back to the dorms to confront Ginny with the information I had found out. When I reached the dorms, I found her bed to be empty. I was panicked. She had fallen with the wrong crowd, or she was being forced to do things against her will.

I laid down in bed, closing my eyes tightly and waiting for sleep to come. I don't know how long I was awake for, but it felt like forever.

By morning, when I woke up, the whole dorm was bustling with whispers and sad eyes. Ginny hadn't come back, and she was missing.

Part of me felt like I should come forward, and tell Professor Dumbledore about my conversation with Malfoy. But I had given him my word, and Ginny couldn't be helped with my information. She was missing. And I had to help to find her.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3.

The next year, when all the chaos had passed, I focused on improving my grades. I had convinced Professor Dumbledore to extend the allowed hours to study in the library so I could continue to study late at night without breaking any rules.

Once, while sitting in the libary, Malfoy sat down on a table near me. Our eyes met, as they always do, and we both looked away and continued our work.

It became a routine or habit. 2-3 times a week, we would be in the library, studying. I was always the last person to leave, but he was very often the second last person.

One night, he approached my table after everyone else had left. I looked up at him. He had a small smile on his face. He cocked his head.

"Mind if I copy your notes from Potions today? I can't stay focused when Snape drones on," he asked.

"S-Sure," I replied.

He sat down directly in front of me, and I pulled out the notes and slid them across the table. He started writing them down.

"I-uh, wanted to thank you," he said, lifting his eyes for a second.

Draco Malfoy, stuttering? This was unheard of.

"For keeping your word," he continued.

"Of course," I mumble back.

"I'm glad she was okay," he said, "Ginny."

"So am I."

The conversation was occasional and light for the rest of the night. We discussed our classes and quiddich. It seemed almost normal. I had hardly gotten any studying done by the end of the night. We began to pack our books into our bags.

"Will you be here tomorrow?" he asked, hopeful.

"Yes," I replied reluctantly.

"What?" he cocked his eyebrow.

"Would you mind," I hesitated, "not mentioning tonight to anyone?"

He half-smiled, and I breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn't offended.

"Am I not good enough for the halfblood?" he asked sarcastically.

"I'm more afraid that Ron and Harry will never speak to me again," I replied honestly, "I'm happy to share notes again tomorrow, though."

He looked down and nodded, "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

And thus our new habit was formed. Once everyone had left the library the next night, he shuffled over to my table and struck up a new conversation with me.

I learned, over time, of his interests, hobbies and annoying habits. He asked about my relationship with Ronald, and I explained my interest in him being comparative to that of a younger sibling.

"I think he likes you," Draco said.

I snorted, and he laughed.

His laughter was not a sound I was accustomed to. I grinned in reply, unable to control my facial expressions any longer.

His laughter.. was like singing. Something angelic. It sounds very corny, I know.

The year was a happy one. My friendship with Ron and Harry was great, but I felt that my closeness to Draco was different. Not in a romantic way, but I knew that he wouldn't tell anyone anything I would say, because he would risk his own reputation.

He was like my secret friend. A confidant that was always there.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4.

Our secret meet-ups continued to the next year, when the Tri-Wizard tournament was held at Hogwarts. I was very busy helping Harry with his tasks for the tournament, so I got to see Draco less and less.

We still met up at least every week in the library, but they were short and felt rushed. I had begun to miss our times together, and I felt like he did too.

When the ball was announced, I was very nervous about getting a date.

I knew that Harry would go with me if I asked him to, but I didn't want to encourage the rumours about us to spread even further. I believed that Ron would ask me, but I doubt he had the courage in him.

I was surprised when Viktor Krum asked me. The other girls in the dorm were certain that he had been staring at me since he arrived, but I supposed I didn't notice it. He was 3 years older than me and built entirely out of muscle. Any normal girl wouldn't hesitate in saying yes. But I'd be lying if I said that my yes was a genuine one. I was out of options.

"I heard you're going to the ball with Krum," Draco asked one night, as we were putting books back on their shelves.

He had wanted to put them up by magic to save the time, but I insisted that we put them back by hand. It was therapudic and calming to sort books back to their proper order. He had rolled his eyes and sighed, but didn't protest.

I could feel him watching me as I stared at the shelf intently.

"Yes, that's right," I replied.

"Why? He doesn't seem your type," he asked.

I shrugged, "why do you care?"

"I don't," he said quickly.

The air was still for a few minutes as we worked silently. We were back to back, facing opposite shelves.

"I wish I could take you," he said suddenly.

I froze. He quickly turned around and faced my back.

"As friends, of course," he rushed.

I turned to face him in the narrow space between the shelves.

"Of course," I replied.

"I heard you're going with Pansy," I said, looking down at his chest.

"That's right," he replied, "as friends."

I snorted, "have you seen how she looks at you? Have you even paid attention?"

I met his eyes and he stared in mine intently.

"Not in the slightest," he said, unwaveringly.

The air between us became tense and heavy. It's like I could feel every molecule separating us. I felt him move a millimetre closer. Then a centimetre.

My mind ran fast. My mind ran to the possibilities. The consequences. The outcomes. If I allowed Draco Malfoy to kiss me, I'd be opening a rabbit hole that wasn't meant to be opened.

The future. That future.. was quiet impossible.

His lips were an inch away from mine. His deep, deep eyes staring into me like a void.

I quickly looked down and stepped away an inch.

"We should get these away," I muttered quietly, avoiding his eyes.

He was silent for a moment.

"Sure," he said normally.

"Do you want to meet here after the ball?" I asked him.

He agreed.

When the ball came around, I felt prepared. Of course, I'm always prepared. But girl-hood, particularly magical, was new to me. I had mastered the spells to apply makeup and adjust and style hair. I had picked out my dress carefully, having studied the colour options and availability very carefully. I was prepared and ready. And I felt amazing.

I walked down the stairs and met Harry and Ron and we walked to the ball together.

"You- you look real nice, Hermione," Ron said.

I thanked him carefully.

They left quickly once we arrived to meet up with Padma and Pavarti, their dates. I had agreed to meet Viktor near entrance, so I waited patiently at the bar near the door. I asked for a drink, and was waiting when I felt a presence next to me.

Draco stood there, looking rather dashing in his well fitted formal suit. He looked down at me and quickly ordered a drink. He leaned down very quickly to whisper in my ears.

"You look beautiful, Hermione," he breathed, touching the small of my back for a moment.

My skin. My blood. My hair. My lips. Were on fire. Every sense was alive and aching to move towards him. I swallowed.

"You don't look too bad yourself, Draco" I muttered under my breath.

"Draacooo," a whiny voice whimpered next to him, "why did you come here, you already have a drink."

Pansy Parkinson was wearing a short black dress that ended at her upper thighs. I was surprised she was allowed through the doors with her heavy eye makeup and overbearing cleavage.

I stopped short when I realised that my misdirected hate was, in fact, jealousy.

"Getting a drink for you, love," he replied calmly, looking down at the small girl attached to his elbow.

She shrieked in happiness and clinged onto him. She reached up on her toes and kissed him squarely on the lips with a loud smack.

"Oh, you!" she squealed.

My stomach turned violently and I felt ill. I turned away from the couple, drink in hand, and walked to the entrance to wait alone.

Viktor came in shortly after, finding me with a kind smile.

"Good evening, Hermione," he said, rolling the "r" too much.

"Good evening, Viktor," I replied nicely.

He held out his arm for me, and I took it easily. We walked down the pathway towards the entrance to the main ball room, and fell in line with the other victors.

He noticed the drink in my hand, and pulled out a small metal flask, pouring dark liquid into the glass. I looked at him with wide eyes, and glanced around to see if anyone else had seen me.

"It's just whiskey," Viktor said slowly, "for fun night."

I met Draco's eyes, who was staring at Viktor darkly. He looked down at me and shook his head quickly.

I looked at Viktor. He nodded, and took a swig of the flask to show me that it was harmless.

I felt beautiful. And daring. I looked at Draco and cocked and eyebrow. He shook his head again, pressing his lips together.

I downed the rest of my drink in one go.

He smirked at me, bemused. Pansy pulled on his arm and his eyes left mine.

"Well done!" Viktor cried, laughing deeply.

The music started and I was led down the pathway towards the dance floor.

Viktor knew what he was doing. He kept me with a drink in hand, always offering to get me a replacement. A true gentleman. He fed me enough of his whisky to keep the conversation light and the night fun, but not enough so that I would stumble over my own feet- not that I needed alcohol to help me with that in those heels.

I had to endure watching Pansy fawn over Draco, but I was pleased with how detached he seemed from her. He would respond to her advances, but not press them further. The Draco that I thought I knew would have taken full advantage.

Later in the night, I was feeling blissful and confident, dancing with Viktor as much as he wanted. The ball room had been converted to a semi-nightclub, with bright lights and loud, live music. The air was electric and the drinks continued to come.

His dancing became closer, and I was feeling less comfortable with the situation.

I turned my head and notice Draco sitting at a table, continuing to stare at Viktor with dark eyes.

He's jealous, I realised.

Draco Malfoy was jealous that I was drunk and dancing with a man 3 years my senior.

I feel happy. Gleeful. Sexy.

I felt desired.

Viktor and I were on the edge of the dance-floor, not wanting to be in the middle of everyone. I could clearly see Draco's table from here.

Viktor turned me around by hips and danced behind me. The music turned slower, and I had a horrible idea pop into my head.

It was dark. It was bad. But I guess I was just in that kind of mood at the time.

I met Draco's eyes, as they looked at me almost painfully.

I slipped my hands behind my back, grasping Viktors hands. I brought them to my waist, as I backed up onto Viktor, the lengths of our bodies meeting.

I began to grind against him to the beat of the music, keeping Draco's eyes steadily. I cocked my head at him slightly, and his eyes bulged out. His jaw dropped a little.

I moved my body along Viktors, who kept up with my change of mood very easily. I bent my knees and dropped close to the ground and smoothly raised back up, pressing my body against his.

Draco drank the rest of his drink, maintaining eye contact with me.

Then he quickly got up, and walked briskly out of the room, a shocked and panicked Pansy racing after him.

Viktor whispered something unintelligible under his breath. I smelled the strong whisky on the words, as he turned me back around.

He quickly and hurriedly kissed me. I had not expected it at all, and realised the downfall of my game with Draco.

Luckily, I felt a hand close around mind and pull me away from him.

"We're leaving," Ron said to me, looking very upset.

"Ronald, let go of me!" I cried

Ron continued to pull me out of the ball and into the corridor. People shuffled by as they headed to the dormitories.

"How dare you!" I cried.

His face was contorted. He breathed in deeply

"Are you drunk?" he asked firmly

"What I do, Ronald Weasley, is none of your business!" I cried back

"Oh yes it is. It is when you're friends with me and Harry and you're whoring yourself out to the enemy!"

My heart clenched. The enemy? Did he know about Draco?

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Don't try to lie to me Hermione," Ron spat, "I saw it in there with my own eyes. His hands all over you. You kissed."

I sighed.

"What I do with Viktor is none of your concern! Why do you even care!"

"I care," Ron started, looking frustrated, "I care because you're ruining Harry's reputation! You're supposed to be neat and.. and.. smart!"

I scoffed, "I'm allowed to be whatever I want to be. Whoever I want to be."

"And I would appreciate if you kept your nose out of my business!" I yelled.

I rushed away from the ball, feeling hurt and disgusted with myself. Had I been wrong to lead Viktor on like that? Definitely. But I didn't mean to hurt anybody, and I especially didn't expect that reaction from Ron.

I went to my usual deserted spot in the eastern corridors. A little round nook on the corner with a wooden bench that overlooked the lake. I often found myself there after a long day or when I have a lot on my mind.

I cried and cried, wetting my dress with my own tears. I cried until I had no tears left, and I felt my face dry and I calmed a little.

"Granger," I heard behind me.

I turned quickly and saw Draco stepping into the room with me.

"Draco," I sighed, "you scared me."

"I waited for you," he said firmly, "in the library."

"Oh," I sighed sadly.

Another person I managed to hurt tonight.

"I'm so sorry," I replied, "I guess I wasn't up for the company tonight."

Draco stood in front of me, but I didn't meet his eyes.

"I knew he would hurt you. I knew I should have stopped the two of you," he spat out, almost to himself.

"I can't believe I let my own reputation stop me from protecting you. I swear to Merlin. I'm going to kill him. I'm going to-"

I looked up at him. His eyes were dark. Scary.

"Who? Viktor?" I asked.

He nodded.

"Victor didn't hurt me. He didn't do anything that I wasn't asking for."

I had spoken with Draco so much over the past year, I desperately wanted to tell him of my fight with Ron, but I felt too ashamed of myself. I felt that Ron's words, however harsh, were right.

Draco's breathing became uneven.

"Did you fuck him, then, Granger?" Draco asked quickly.

I paused. I looked up at him.

"Why would you ask that?" I hissed, "why is everyone so god-damned interested in my sex life tonight?"

Draco stared at my eyes, obviously seeing the red rings and tear streaked makeup under the light of the moon.

He sat down beside me, facing me.

"No, Draco," I sighed, "I didn't fuck him."

I spat out the word like it had a bad taste in my mouth.

"He did give me one god-awful kiss though," I continued.

"Then what happened?" he asked softer.

His eyes were warmer and calmer. I felt the air tingle as it usually does when he's around.

"Ronald removed me from the floor and gave me a lecture about how I was whoring myself out to him," I explained quietly.

Draco was quiet.

"I'm sorry I didn't come to the library," I said, "I probably should have just come to you to talk about it."

"I thought that you weren't interested in Viktor," Draco said, "you seemed.. interested."

I met Draco's eyes, which seemed saddened.

"I'm not," I said, blushing, "it was stupid. I was stupid."

"And drunk, apparently," Draco replied.

"Yes," I swallowed, and looked up at him, "do you think I'm horrible."

He shrugged, "just normal."

He pulled his own flask out from inside his jacket. This one has intricate carvings and marks along it, with a large curled "M" in the centre.

He took a long swig from it, and offered it to me. I took it, and took a drink.

I swallowed the liquid and coughed loudly.

He laughed at me, and I immediately felt calmer knowing that he wasn't upset with me.

Something about his presence calmed me. I felt safer.

I became aware of his closeness as he leaned his arm along the back of the chair behind me.

"How are you feeling?" he asked curiously.

I nodded, "feeling shitty for wasting my first kiss on someone like Viktor. Someone I wasn't even interested in."

"Viktor was your first kiss?" Draco asked, "really?"

"Of course," I said, "why do you sound so surprised?"

He shrugged, "I thought you'd have all of the Griffindors after you."

He paused for a moment, "I know I would be."

My breathing faltered. My heard tightened.

This decision was a big part of my downfall, but I was completely consumed by Draco Malfoy.

I turned to him, and his calm eyes were firey. He met mine and they tightened as he read my expression.

His hand came up to push a loose hair back into place, and his face swiftly closed the gap between us.

His warm lips pushed against mine, and I kissed him back. At first, slowly, and then much faster. My hands pressed against the side of his smooth cheeks, and my fingers twined into his hair, pulling him closer. His hands found my waist and he gripped my sides with need.

I was out of breath when he pulled away, feeling overwhelmed and light headed. I gasped at the air. He seemed amused by my reaction.

"I hope I helped to change the memory," he said quietly, his forehead touching mine.

His hands twined into mine and we sat silently for a moment, my breath slowing but my heart maintaining it's fast pace.

"Yes," is all I could muster, feeling awkwardly undeserving of the man in front of me.

He touched my cheek again, running his thumb along the angle of my jaw. His lips pressed against mine for a moment, and he lifted his body up away from me.

I felt dizzy. He gripped my hands and helped me to my feet.

"It's almost curfew, we should get back."

I nodded.

His fingers twined into mine and we slowly headed back. I didn't want to sleep. I didn't want to leave him. I didn't want to end this moment.

I felt guilty for the events earlier in the night, but I had never felt so complete. Never felt more like I belonged.

"They don't appreciate you," Draco began, "Potter and Weasley."

"Oh?"

"They treat you like an object to be presented. Like a tutor. Or something to carry their weight. They don't deserve you."

I shrugged, "they're my friends."

"I know," he agreed, "but they don't understand you."

"I know."

He didn't press the matter, but his words weighed heavily in my heart. Draco was the only person at Hogwarts that didn't take full advantage of my academic achievements or my close relationships with my teachers. I felt used and worn when I was around them.

With Draco, I felt equal. Deserving and deserved.

I held his hand tighter, and he ran his thumb along the side of mine.

I breathed out slowly.

We reached the corridor where we would part, and he turned to me, taking my waist into his hand.

"Let's keep this between us," he said quietly, "I don't want this affecting your friendships with your house. It would make things hard for you."

"What exactly is this?" I asked curiously.

He smiled at me, leaned down and his lips met mine again.

The blood rushed around my body and I felt hot again.

When I opened my eyes, he was walking away, hands in his pockets. I took a moment, and wandered back to the dormitories.


End file.
